


supernova

by galaxy_witch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Season/Series 08, basically everything's the same but shiro doesn't get married, kind of a fix-it fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17006829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxy_witch/pseuds/galaxy_witch
Summary: “Sorry,” Keith groans into his hands once he regains his focus. “I dreamed that I lost you again.”“Baby,” Shiro sighs and scoots closer to Keith. He reaches his hand out slowly and rests it against Keith’s cheek. “You’ll never lose me.”





	supernova

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you're all okay in the aftermath of season 8! I wrote a poem about sheith a few weeks ago, so I decided to write a fic to accompany it and included a lil snippet of it at the beginning. 
> 
> This isn't spoiler heavy, but I'd still recommended not reading unless you've seen season 8. Enjoy <3

-

 

_So when we meet again long after this,_

_We’ll dance on the universe’s fault lines._

_The planets will show us the way to go,_

_Back together, seal the void with a kiss._

_With love like Andromeda in her prime,_

_Even comets will look dim in our glow._

 

_-_

 

 

 

Keith is aware of the darkness, steady and all-consuming, before it gives way to a blinding orange light.

He blinks, eyes adjusting to the bright mass just above the horizon. The warmth of its rays do nothing to ease the chill that crawls up his spine at the realization that he’s standing in the middle of the desert, with no recollection as to how he got there.

The sand dunes in the distance stretch on endlessly, beckoning Keith to follow its trail into the sunset. The light calls to him like an old friend, a forgotten home, a long-lost lover. He wants to walk towards it and fill the insatiable need to drown in the familiarity of it all.

Before he can answer the setting sun’s call, Keith notices the shack, _his_ shack, standing just as imperfect against the late afternoon light as it did the last time he saw it–before Voltron, before the war had left it in pieces. It sits far in the distance, just before the dunes overtake the horizon line.

Keith blinks again, and each time the shack becomes more defined in front of him. Instead of charred beams and broken glass, a too-perfect mirage of his old home lies waiting.

 _Impossible_ , he thinks.

Keith takes a few steps in the direction of the shack, and each movement evokes a warning voice that echoes through each inch of his skull.

_Turn back. There’s nothing here for you._

The voice isn’t strong enough to stop Keith from advancing. No matter how confused he is or how wrong this feels, Keith has never given up once he’s started, and he’s not about to quit now.

He stalks towards the shack with purpose, and the sun slowly sets as he does. The sky’s pink hue barely light the way as he gets closer, but he manages to reach the front door before nightfall hits completely. As he approaches the door, Keith is tempted to knock first and see if anything lurks inside-just in case someone or something decides to crawl out and rip his throat to pieces. He pulls his blade from the sheath and quietly turns the knob and enters back into the room where it all started.

He prepares for an attack, but he is instead met with darkness and the quiet echo of the crickets outside. He walks in, staying on guard as he inspects the room. Everything is as he left it years ago; papers on the Blue Lion’s whereabouts decorate the side wall, the old TV whose antennas need to be tilted just right for it to work is unplugged, and the coffee-stained table is still scattered with miscellaneous papers.

He walks over to the side wall and smiles at the bitter-sweet memories of the nights he spent following anomalies in the desert; he spent hours marking up charts and maps with an old red Sharpie, with high hopes that his findings would lead him to something.

Or, at the least, lead him back to Shiro.

He turns away, and then jumps at the sudden presence of a figure sitting on the couch just under the windows on the other side of the room. The dim light from outside barely illuminates the body, but Keith would recognize that silhouette topped with a flash of white hair even in the lowest light.

“Shiro?” Keith half-whispers, taking a hesitant step towards the couch. There is no answer.

“Shiro," he repeats, "what are you doing here? What’s going on?” Keith steps closer and the proximity enables Keith to get a better look at Shiro’s face. He looks younger, if only a little, and is wearing his black and white Garrison uniform. His expression is completely empty, eyes unfocused and lips locked in a harsh line. Keith goes over to Shiro and puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking him softly to break the daze.

“Hey, talk to me,” Keith commands, kneeling in front of Shiro and shaking his shoulder a bit harder. Shiro’s silence continues, and he stares past Keith as if he’s not there at all.

Keith reaches up to rest a hand under Shiro’s jaw, forcing him to look back at Keith. Shiro’s eyes finally meet his and Keith notices the dark-purple circles around his eyes, which make Shiro appear as if he hasn’t slept in months. More alarming though, is the empty, dead-stare that chills Keith the moment their eyes meet. Keith wants to look away but he’s too transfixed on the scene in front of him.

“Shiro?”

“There’s nothing here for you,” Shiro finally says, monotone and ghostly, and the sound vibrates through Keith’s whole body, settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Keith doesn’t know how or why Shiro feels so far away when he is sitting right in front of him. He realizes then that Shiro’s body is unreasonably cold, and panic blooms, achingly so, throughout his chest. Keith had nursed Shiro back from the edge of death before, and he’d do it again, but something about this moment seems too hopeless to remedy. Although Shiro is breathing, there is no fire in his being, just ice and dust.

Keith wants to speak and try to get some kind of response from Shiro, even if it’s just a word or two. However, he doesn’t get the chance.

The ground begins to shake beneath them, and it triggers Keith’s fight-or-flight response immediately.

 _I need to get us out of here._ Keith stands and tries to pull Shiro up with him by his sleeve.

“We need to go, c’mon.” Keith grows increasingly distressed as he continues to tug at Shiro’s sleeve. He doesn’t budge.

The shaking gets more violent, but Shiro isn’t responding. He’s still looking at Keith but says nothing to accompany his cold stare.

The beams of the shack begin to fall away one by one, and as the roof caves in Keith grabs for Shiro, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“ _Shiro_ , let’s go!” Keith shouts, but Shiro remains an unmovable weight as Keith clings to his shoulders. He feels trapped, forced to withstand the impact of the wooden beams as they fall around them.

The rest of the house falls apart. There’s no light, no flames, and no explosions of any kind. There’s only the rumbling of the desert floor, darkness, and faint traces of dust particles occupying the air around them. Keith's arms remain locked around Shiro as he wills his head up and looks to where a roof once stood. Instead of being exposed to the endless night sky overhead, all Keith can see is black.

 

 

Keith awakes in a panic with a strong arm around his waist.

It startles him, he doesn’t know where he is for a few moments until he blinks his eyes open.

“Keith, it’s okay,” Shiro soothes from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of Keith’s neck. “It was a dream.”

Keith squirms out of Shiro’s grasp and moves towards the edge of the bed, desperately chasing the need to catch his breath. Keith sits up against his pillows, pushing his sweat slicked locks away from his face and rubbing at his eyes in an attempt to ground himself. Keith notices that Shiro sits up too, but he keeps his distance in order to let Keith calm down.

“Sorry,” Keith groans into his hands once he regains his focus. He picks at a lose thread poking out of his blanket and tries to process the images that had plagued his brain a moment ago. “I dreamed that I lost you again.”

Keith doesn’t know what to make of the dream; he doesn’t know if he should consider it an omen, a memory, or just a troublesome nightmare. Despite being awake now, he’s afraid to meet Shiro’s eyes from across the bed.

“Baby,” Shiro sighs and scoots closer to Keith. He reaches his hand out slowly and rests it against Keith’s cheek. “You’ll never lose me.”

“I know,” Keith sighs. Shiro’s thumb, warm and reassuring, swipes across Keith’s cheek, soothing him for the moment. Keith finally finds the strength to look up, and Shiro is smiling despite the worry apparent in his furrowed brow. His eyes are as kind and concerned as they should be–as they always have been. Relieved, Keith leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Shiro’s lips.

“I love you,” Shiro mumbles once Keith pulls away.

“I love you, too,” Keith responds, feeling his worries melt away as Shiro continues to hold him.

“I can stay another night if you need me to,” Shiro says, and then begins peppering soft kisses across Keith’s jaw.

“No, we both have work to do. I’ve distracted Admiral Shirogane for far too long.”

“Not long enough.” Shiro laughs against Keith’s skin, and although his smile is sad, he tries not to let it show. They both knew what they were getting into when Keith decided to help the Galra rebuild on Daibazaal and Shiro chose to continue piloting the Atlas to help do research for the Garrison. Every so often, though, Shiro slips away to see Keith for a few days-but there’s never enough time.

Keith hums and tries to make the heaviness between them feel lighter. “Let’s go back to sleep, Krolia expects me to be in early for the Council meeting tomorrow.”

Shiro nods and presses one last kiss to Keith’s lips, and the two settle back into bed. Before Shiro closes his eyes, he presses another kiss to the top of Keith’s head, whispering an _I love you_ into his hair.

It’s not long before Keith can hear Shiro’s soft snores and feel Shiro’s chest rise and fall against his back. Keith tries to close his eyes.

Visions of his nightmare flash behind his eyelids briefly, but the weight of Shiro’s arm around his waist and the breath on the back of his neck wills those sour thoughts away. Shiro is here–warm and safe and happy in his bed, and Keith catalogues the feeling to store away, so he can remember this moment during the nights he’ll spend alone when Shiro leaves again.

Living on Daibazaal and helping Krolia and Kolivan rebuild Galran society has given Keith so much strength and purpose; but it’s in Shiro’s arms that Keith finds home.

**Author's Note:**

> No matter how you feel about season 8, remember to be nice to each other <3
> 
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/emotabek) ll [tumblr](http://emotabek.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
